Since its release in the summer of 2002, Rjd2's commercial debut Dead Ringer has become recognized as one of hip-hop's most highly regarded turntablist records. A drum-funk tour-de-force, the record continued Def Jux's then-unparalled creative streak, spotlighting Rjd2 as the only hip-hop producer since DJ Shadow capable of taking to both long-form rhythmic experiments and 3:30 rap cages with such effortless dexterity.
But just as seasons lead to new colors and moods, careers lead to new directions, and in two years, things have changed dramatically for R.J. Krohn. Since We Last Spoke is a dizzying taster's choice that plays like a broken radio dial, jumping from nostalgic A.M. soul and funk-rock cantinas to tech-house jams and retro synth vamps. Yet, while variety has been inherent in all of Rj's work, the mish-mash of styles on display here feels less like a result of intent than of indecision, and as a result, these sudden 180s tend to cut into the record's cohesiveness.
Fortunately, Rjd2's picked up a wealth of new tricks since Dead Ringer to compensate for the unexpected stylistic transformation: Since We Last Spoke is packed with crashing silences and false senses of security, radical mutations of Dead Ringer's gritty electronic textures, and an overall darker tone that conjures rusted bridge girders, fractured kaleidoscopes, and smog-shrouded sunsets. "Making Days Longer" in particular breeds success, opening with the light pluck of oriental strings as a cavern opens to reveal a double helix of Metroid-evoking synth lines. Here, framed by reverberating analog lines and an aorta drum pulse, Krohn sweetly dictates the greatest telephone jingle never made: "Strange how a phone call can change your day, take you away/ Away from the feeling of being alone/ That's the telephone."
For a guy who's been shadowed by a certain comparison throughout his relatively brief career, it's ironic that his sophomore slump, while never as problematic, so closely mirrors that of Josh Davis. Many of the missteps of Shadow's The Private Press are repeated here, as Rj shirks rapping and scratching in lieu of synths, and discovers the gentle strength of the indie rock vocal. On "1976", Krohn dons a leisure suit and bongos out his own copa-cobanger while subtle Moog helicopter drones, machine-gun horns, and car-chase bass spin a tale that might've felt more at home soundtracking Magnum P.I. than serving as the showcase cut from his latest LP.
Rjd2 does return to his strengths on occasion here: "To All of You" is a soft-focus blaxploitation love theme recalling Isaac Hayes' Shaft mood-setting; "One Day" mellows out with gently pressed piano chords and dusky synthtones punctuated by a muted kickdrum and handclap-inflected snare hits; "Exotic Talk" jumps between a reworking of his fiery Urban Renewal Program contribution "True Confessions" and tense dropouts dripping with wah-wah'd clavinet. Still, Since We Last Spoke is something of a checker game: For every track like "Someone's Second Kiss", portraying the emotional severity of an android funeral dirge, there's another in which Rj throws back to the worst of the 1980s with a cheesy, guitar-centric pop/rocker like "Through the Walls".
Over the course of Since We Last Spoke, Rjd2 experiments with indie rock, IDM, metal, Italo-disco, downtempo, and 80s R&B.; Unfortunately, few of these tracks wield the same impact as his tried-and-true hip-hop productions, and more often than not, feel like attempts at being everything to everyone. At the end of "To All of You", there's a minute-long stretch of rugged blues boom-bap and a scratched vocal repeating, "Play that beat." If only Rjd2 had heeded that advice.
